


Gratitude: I Do Now

by SmolBeanDrabbles



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Drinking, Other, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolBeanDrabbles/pseuds/SmolBeanDrabbles
Summary: Relationship problems weren’t unusual, but this scenario is completely new to him. Trying to think on the good vs the bad, Krennic realises he’s got a lot to be grateful for…
Relationships: Orson Krennic/Reader, Orson Krennic/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Gratitude: I Do Now

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my 7 Deadly Sins / 7 Heavenly Virtues Request Challenge from Tumblr
> 
> Lyrics: I Do Now - Brad Paisley & This Is The First Thing - You Me At Six

_This is the first thing I thought  
_ _This is the last thing that I want  
_ _You were the first one I loved  
_ _You were the first love I lost_

_You left it too late  
To change the way I think  
I’ll never say never again  
Those words will never ever pass my lips_  
  
—  
  
 _I never knew how people wound up in a bar  
In the middle of the day  
Broken souls or broken lives  
From the choices that they made  
I didn’t know how much I had to lose  
When I threw it all away  
  
But I do now, I do now  
Oh, I’d give anything  
If I could just go back in time somehow  
I wouldn’t break your heart,  
I wouldn’t break those vows_  
  
—

_noun_

  1. the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.



_I’ve never understood how people end up in a bar in the middle of the day…_

Krennic watched the ring spin again; an endless loop of gold metal - the way even though he knew its size and shape it seemed to twist and break. _Fitting for the situation_ , he thought and sighed. It slowed, the loops changing from entwining into one, to the single gold frame that declined to balance on its edge and fell with a clear sound - refusing to give up for a few seconds more before lying still.

He took another sip of alcohol; the kick sending a shiver to his system that he liked as he picked the ring up between his fingers again, and with a delicate spin started the whole process again.

_I do now…  
  
_

*

You. Not that he would ever do this to forget you. On the contrary the more he drunk the more you filled his head.  
A book full of life lessons - some of them hard - could be written on what had gone on between the two of you.  
You were everything he’d ever wanted. Both submissive to everything he said, and controlling when you wanted to be. You broke his heart as much as you made him love you - as much as you fuelled an obsession he couldn’t fight and didn’t ever want to stop. And he hurt you too, _because he could_. Because he got jealous, possessive… because sometimes he had a quest for revenge and took it too far.   
One endless circle, like this ring.

So why was he here? In a little bar on some planet he didn’t much care for, let alone remember the name of. And why was Krennic trying to think of things to be thankful for?  
Because he simply had a **lot** to be grateful for when it came to you. Because as much as you fought, and drove each other crazy, you _loved_ each other. At least, he hoped you did.  
And when Krennic was like this he couldn’t stop thinking about you.  
He leant his head in his palm and spun the ring again; the sound of it scratching across the surface of the bar as it twirled in place likely driving the other patrons crazy, but he didn’t care.  
One more sip and the drink was done; but he didn’t pass his glass to the bartender, merely held it out as the liquid was replenished. 

**_Gratitude._ **

Hard to show. Even harder to feel? Even cursing your name Krennic didn’t feel like it was hard to feel. Because he felt he always went about showing it wrong.  
Every time you’d picked him back up after a hard day, or being shouted down, every time you’d stayed and listened to his ranting, every time you’d loved on him to make him feel better… or feel _something_ … you’d taught him so much that he couldn’t even think right now about how innumerable this list actually was. The way you would kiss him exactly when and where he needed it without him even having to ask. And the way you never made him say thank you; because you knew he was…

Krennic never thought he’d be grateful for fighting with anyone before you either. Long, passionate arguments - that never got physical, but with the sharp, brutally painful blows you often dealt each other, it sure would feel like it.  
But he learned how to wait it out, how to say just the right snarky thing at just the right time. How he wouldn’t even need words, just exactly the right look and he could finish and argument and win it.  
And _Stars,_ how he needed **that** at work.

You also had a habit of sharing information with him. Information that was so vitally important in your remit of work. Both of you were in intelligence, and in that crisp white uniform. Of course, that on occasion led to you both turning up to work in jackets a few sizes different to usual. But that didn’t often matter, because you got to be surrounded by each other all day.

The secrets that otherwise passed between the two of you were each other’s to keep. And as far as he knew you both did.  
And with some of the things that had passed between you, he was surprised. Staring at that ring hard as this time it refused to fall; as it stilled it remained upright - and he spun it again, recklessly, to make sure it fell. With what you knew you could tear him down brick by brick. And he knew he’d never get up again from that.  
 _Dead and buried_ \- if not even literally.

Krennic mused this for a long while; how his gratitude was boundless, but his words were not. How he would think saying something like that would show weakness. That would be exactly why he was where he was now.  
By design caring gave you a bonded strength. _In numbers_ , even if his first thought would be he was better off alone. Perhaps not on the battlefield; but secretly he would always hope to not see you there. Protecting you could come at too great a cost…

As soon as he felt a presence in front of him, he placed his hand over the ring and slid it from the counter. _You didn’t see that_ the action attempted to say - even if he’d been doing the same thing over and over for hours…  
He bit his lip gently, followed by a small tongue roll and his sorrowful blue eyes raised from the dark wood to your face.  
Your arms folded, even though you wore a frown your expression was intrigued.  
You nodded to the counter “Someone special?”  
“That would be of very little consequence to you…”  
“Better than me?”  
He almost smiled; “They’re alright, yeah.”  
  


It was good enough for you, for now. “Seems like an awfully lonely place to find yourself, Director…” you looked around, a couple of people who looked like they belonged here sat at a table at the back. A few other patrons scattered made him 1 of 5; and the only one sitting at the bar.  
He rose from his seat, finishing the last of his glass; “Perhaps. That doesn’t make me any less deserving of it.”  
“I think you do yourself a disservice…”  
“As do I.” But those blue eyes were still staring at you, so he wasn’t talking about himself.  
He paid his tab without even attempting to find the bartender again and walked slowly along the length of the bar. You fell instep - but that physical barrier between you felt like the one you were really both putting up. You supposed you both had your reasons. If the rules of the Empire weren’t reasons enough…

You slipped under the end of the bar as you both made for the exit, both in silence and with the lack of a physical barrier you still maintained the gap between you.  
There were things you wanted to say to him. That you thought would slip away forever if you didn’t tell him now. But you couldn’t; so maybe they would have to.  
He was like having a mentor - and in a game you were both playing he was the only person you could trust. You had much to thank him for; as much as enough political backstabbing to actually want to run a dagger through him yourself. But you forgave him for that; because you got to watch him _shine_ … and Orson Krennic was at his best when he was shining. (Without noting that you also got to pull all the strings here too…)

Outside the sun was shining and you both had to shield your eyes against it from the dingy little bar you’d both just spent time in. You noticed the ring hadn’t quite made its way back to his finger yet.  
“I would advise against the Empire finding you day drinking, Director.”  
He huffed; “Am I supposed to be grateful you did?”  
You gave a shrug, he was still just as mad at you as he was himself. “Better me than Tarkin.”  
Orson scoffed and turned back around “I don’t have enough in my system for this.”  
“I just don’t want to see you in trouble.” He paused at the honesty and his eyes flicked to yours - with heartfelt clarity. He could be, and bring out in you, the best of times and worst of times. But it was a balance. And it worked out for the both of you; _somehow_. You cared. You did it because you cared.  
And that was as much his reasoning too… he just hoped you knew that.

Krennic looked back to the door and swallowed hard; you weren’t going to move; he knew you were waiting for him to make his decision.  
And he couldn’t let you watch him do this to himself. He sighed, defeated and took a step back. But it was only a step, and his head bowed and his eyes cast back to the floor. So now you would wait for him to move.  
Still downcast his eyes traced back to you; and somewhere he found the courage to actually say it. “Thank you.” Your eyes widened a little in shock; what for? Dragging him out of a bar? “For your love…” _Oh_. _Surprising_. “It is… the best and worst thing that ever happened to me…”

His hand delved back into his pocket and the gold band glinted in the sunshine; “You give me so much to be grateful for… I can’t ever say it enough…” Orson slipped it back onto his left hand and rolled it thoughtfully between his fingers for a minute; “to the point where I think I just can’t say it…” he turned his body to you, and inclined his head; “So this might be that one time that I must.” His eyes met yours “I thank you,” but even yet, he turned away, “but it may be a while before I am ready to return.” His eyeline flicked over his shoulder; “Enjoy your day, Y/N.”  
  


And so you had to watch him walk away, with a smile and a shake of your head. You respected his feeling towards this enough not to follow.  
 _Thank you_ \- it resounded in your head a couple of times. He said he didn’t say it enough. But he didn’t have to, because you knew.  
Of course you knew. It was always in his actions, _always_ , even if he couldn’t see that.  
You turned to head in the opposite direction, with a quiet laugh to yourself. And in the same way he just had, you ran your thumb gently over the gold band that matched his;

_No Orson, thank_ **you** _._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
